


Forgetting Is For The Best

by dean_n_pie



Series: A Fic A Day [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Based on a Tumblr Post, Gen, Memory Loss, No pairings - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 08:12:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dean_n_pie/pseuds/dean_n_pie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the aftermath of the final battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgetting Is For The Best

**Author's Note:**

> okay this is based on something i saw on tumblr but i cant remember which post it was
> 
> so yeah  
> angst like woah
> 
> wrote it at like 3am but i like it

"We did it." Sam’s voice rings out with disbelief, echoing throughout the warehouse. He stares over at his brother, who’s face is bloodied but otherwise alright. Sam himself only has a sore arm and a black eye.

He eyes his arm critically. Funny, he thinks. I could’ve sworn it was at least broken.

Dean grunts, about 50 feet away but moving closer. He doesn’t seem to have any serious injuries either, which isn’t what you’d expect after fighting all the summoned Knights of Hell. And winning.

"We won, Sam. We won," Dean says, exhilaration lighting up his eyes.

Sam starts laughing; he can’t believe it’s all finally over. Dean marches over and grips him in a tight hug, laughing along with Sam. He lets out an excited whoop, fist pumping the air.

"We really fuckin’ did it!" Dean yells, breaking away from Sam and tipping his head back to look up at the roof of the warehouse. Sam glances around, taking in the corpses of the demons and their hosts. He mourns the loss of the hosts, and viciously excites in the knowledge that the sons of bitches that had terrorized the nation for the past year were dead.

Sam looks back at Dean, observing his childlike behavior and chuckling at it. He joins in, spreading his arms out and imitating his brother. Together, they walk out the front door of the warehouse, already planning their next move.

Dean says they should go straight to Bobby’s; Sam says it’s late and they should find a motel to stay in so they don’t disrupt Bobby.

Sam wins the argument.

As they walk over to the Impala, Dean looks around, seemingly looking for something.

Sam does the same, confusedly following Dean’s line of eyesight to figure out what he’s looking for. He glances over at Dean, noticing a pinched look about his features.

"What is it, Dean?" Sam asks, curiously looking around.

"I dunno, man, I just feel like we’re forgetting something. Something important."

Sam shrugs. “Maybe we forgot a knife or something? Dude, it doesn’t matter.”

"Nah, Sammy, it’s something more than that… I just can’t put my finger on it." Dean says, frustration lining his face.

"C-mon, Dean, I’m exhausted and I know you are too. Let’s just get to a motel and sleep it off." Sam’s tried to persuade Dean before, but this time it actually works. Dean gets into the car, face still pinched.

As they drive further away from the warehouse, Sam begins to feel the sense of forgetting as well. He tries to ignore it, focusing strictly on the road and the music. Doubts continuously creep into his mind, but he shakes them off. In the morning they’ll see Bobby and finally have good news for a change.

The car drives off into the sunset.

Neither of them notice the middle-aged man in the tan trenchcoat leaning against the warehouse wall with a broken arm and a concussion. They don’t notice him smile softly; they don’t notice the pain cross his features; they don’t notice the small nod he gives them as he pulls himself together and vanishes.

The parting words of “Goodbye, Sam and Dean” are lost on the wind.


End file.
